


Counterfeit Cravings

by blueharlequin



Category: Broadchurch, Casanova (UK), Fright Night (2011), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Rab C Nesbitt (TV), Takin' Over the Asylum
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale is Not Innocent (Good Omens), F/M, Fellatio, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, No beta we fall like Crowley, Oral Sex, Pining, Temptation, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), transgender character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-09-05 20:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20279080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueharlequin/pseuds/blueharlequin
Summary: Five times Aziraphale was tempted by a Crowley look alike, and the one time he did the tempting





	1. Giacomo Casanova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta so please be kind

When Aziraphale first encountered him he was sitting in the rectory writing a letter for the cardinal. Looking over, Aziraphale inquired of the young seminary student next to him, “Who is that there?”

The student replied, “Father, that's Giacomo Casanova, he's recently been made a scribe for the cardinal." Casanova looked up and smiled when he saw Aziraphale looking at him. The student next him scoffed, “He's a saucy one. Be careful, I've heard things about his scandalous behaviour, can’t believe the cardinal employed him.”

Aziraphale knew who Casanova was, had heard of some of his exploits even so early in his youth. He had fully expected some sort of rogue, but the young man was quite fetching and rather smart if the dictation he was taking from the cardinal was any indication. The other thing that struck Aziraphale was that the young man looked like Crowley, or would look like Crowley if maybe his corporation were some years younger. For a moment, he imagined that Casanova's countenance was what Crowley might have looked like as an angel; fresh-faced with striking blue eyes.

* * *

The next time Aziraphale came across him, it was because there was an aura of Love permeating the area, there was also a good deal of lust, and before he had realized it, he had stumbled upon two young things in congress. The young man was kneeling underneath a nun's robes. The nun for her part didn't scream, but she did squeak and exclaim, "Oh my goodness father!" upon seeing him.

He was not perturbed, well he was, but it was for a different reason. The nun had only broken a vow of chastity, something God didn’t particularly care about. He supposed that even though a broken vow was equivalent to a lie, it was only a lie to one’s self. These silly humans had twisted the words of Her Son into so many strange iterations. Before his mind went too far on a tangent, he refocused on the Love around them. They were in love, and the angel can’t fault them for that. What surprised him was that when Casanova came up because he heard his companion cry out, he looked guilty. It was surprising because Aziraphale noted the feeling was not for the coitus, but for being caught.

The angel cleared his throat, and disturbingly like his doppelganger, the young man began to ramble excuses. Aziraphale cut him off, “Young man, young lady” Casanova stuttered to a stop, “If you are going to engage in this sort of behaviour, might it not be more prudent to do it where you will not be discovered? And for that matter, in a location where you can give your full attention to the lady?” He directed this last part to the young man.

Casanova gaped at him. Oh, Crowley would have a field day with this, corrupting nuns and Aziraphale not floundering over sex. Not that sex with nuns would be anything the demon would engage in, too easy a temptation he would scoff, and Aziraphale hardly counted it as a balance for the current blessing he was working on. But again, looking at the young man just evoked all these thoughts in him. By this time, the young lady had rearranged herself and was tugging on the young man’s hand to leave. Casanova smiled and leaned forward to whisper in Aziraphale’s ear, “Thank you, Father,” then dashed off with her.

* * *

Aziraphale was taking a walk in the overgrown garden on the cardinal’s estate when he stumbled upon him again. The pathway was cut like a maze, with many twists and turns and alternate pathways and hanging branches and vines. The angel felt a strange pang of nostalgia for a garden that was ages in the past. That garden was large and verdant, humid and warm with many places to rest and relax. Aziraphale had chanced upon one place very much like that when he heard the noise. Two people were sitting on a low stone bench under a lush bower, one with his back to the path. A moan echoed out and it was suddenly apparent to him that they were having sex.

When Aziraphale peeked out from the tree he stopped behind, he saw Casanova facing him. There was a young man astride him moving his hips urgently. He was about to confront Casanova for the infidelity, and again for the impropriety of being out of doors when he felt it. For a second, the angel doubted his senses, for it was Love. Once again, love was rolling off Casanova like a wave against the shore. Aziraphale could see it in the way Casanova was looking at the young man and caressing his face tenderly. The angel was deeply vexed, what had happened to the young lady a week ago? He must have alerted Casanova to his presence because the young man was now staring at him while he continued to make love to the youth in his lap. Their eyes met, and instead of the guilty countenance he was expecting, Aziraphale was graced with a smile. It was not even a lascivious smile or a smug one. It was happy and enigmatic, and the angel had no idea what to make of it. He gave in to the urge and tentatively smiled back, then with a nod, he turned and walked away. Aziraphale was not entirely sure what to make of this development.

* * *

Aziraphale could not get it out of his mind, he had completed his assignment, and he wanted to know more about the young scribe. He turned down the hallway to Casanova's quarters and almost crashed into the young man. Casanova was cheerfully trying to convince one of the chambermaids to join him in his room. Aziraphale's shoe scuffed the floor just loud enough to alert the couple to his presence. The maid pulled away and Casanova looked at her wistfully for a moment before he abandoned his seduction to turn to Aziraphale, “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were spying on me.”

He noted that the girl practically flew down the hallway, turning away so that the "Father" wouldn't see her face. “I’m not trying to,” Aziraphale replied after a moment.

“Good to know,” Casanova flashed that brilliant grin at him again, and Aziraphale was astonished. There it was again, this time he felt the quiet tendrils of Love. Threads of it were seeping out of the young man and reaching toward him. The angel had never encountered someone like this, a human that so easily loved. He almost felt sorrow for the young man before him; his life was not going to be easy. People who loved wholeheartedly were often hurt over and over by those who didn’t understand the depths of their feelings.

Casanova heard his indrawn breath and looked at him mischievously. He opened the door behind him, revealing his room. "You did say location matters if I remember correctly."

The young man was not so much seductive as he was fascinating. "I did," the angel returned dryly walking through the door. Aziraphale turned the tables on him as soon as it closed. Casanova began to kneel but Aziraphale pulled him back up and thoroughly kissed him. "It's not a race, young man," he murmured into his ear after breaking the kiss.

Oh, that it was Crowley's face staring back at him flushed and stunned. Aziraphale blinked the errant thought away and returned his attention to peppering kisses over the pale skin of Casanova's throat. He pushed off his jacket and slowly started undoing the numerous buttons on the young man's waistcoat. It seemed that Casanova's brain finally re-engaged and he followed suit. "It's a good thing that you are not wearing a cassock today or this would take forever," he remarked boldly.

Aziraphale responded by tugging the young man over to the bed and pulling open the laces of his breeches. He stripped them off and gave Casanova's cock a firm stroke before taking it in his mouth. Casanova cried out and looked at him in astonishment. The young man had not expected Aziraphale to go down on him so easily. The angel's hands caressed Casanova's thighs, ran up the dips in his pelvis to settle over his hips and hold him down. After some minutes, he pulled his mouth away and traced up his chest, pulling the young man's shirt up with one hand as he went. His other hand stayed below, lightly caressing and teasing as his mouth latched onto a newly revealed nipple.

Casanova had been about to protest the loss of the warm wetness around his cock when Aziraphale sucked hard on one of his nipples. The complaint trailed off into a moan as he was overwhelmed by a man who should have no knowledge of such seductions. Aziraphale rose and studied his face. Seeing a baffled look of pleasure, the angel paused to make sure everything was okay, "Are you enjoying yourself, my dear? You seem distracted."

"Yes, _ah_, how you do know..._oh_," Casanova trailed off briefly as Aziraphale resumed stroking him. "You haven't even taken all of your clothes off yet, surely you must want some relief," he protested weakly, no longer caring about details. He reached up, aiming for the angel's ties but Aziraphale gently pushed him down again. He loomed over the young man and started jacking him in earnest.

Aziraphale smiled, "Just let me enjoy you." Casanova succumbed to his wishes and the angel sensed his body respond as he gave in. Aziraphale watched raptly as the young man became lost in his pleasure. Blue eyes stared blankly Heavenward as he keened and writhed under Azriaphale's deft hands. Aziraphale's breath caught as Casanova spilt his release with a soft moan. The angel ran his mouth over the long pale arch of Casanova's exposed throat, as he worked him through it. He slowed to a stop and lightly traced his hands up and down the young man's thighs, delicately massaging his trembling muscles. Aziraphale arranged himself at his side and embraced him.

Casanova turned and kissed him ardently. "That was marvellous," he sighed, his bright eyes drifting shut. They popped back open a moment later. "Ah! How rude of me," he turned toward Aziraphale, his hands moving towards the angel's laces. Aziraphale caught them before they could complete their task.

"There is no need, I am quite satisfied." Aziraphale had just wanted to to see, it was enough for him to imagine bright yellow eyes blinking in rapture and a similar, but slightly deeper voice moaning with passion.

Casanova rolled over fully, draping himself across Aziraphale's chest. "Then stay a while longer. Maybe I can tempt you again later." He blinked flirtatiously but the aura of his Love permeating the room belied the flippancy of his words.

“My beautiful young man,” Aziraphale stroked his hair, “I would be doing you a disservice if I would stay. I must confess I wouldn’t be able to love you as well as you love me. For my selfish wants, I saw the likeness of someone in you that I cannot have and took advantage.”

Casanova gave him a melancholy smile that almost pained his corporeal heart. “Do you love them?” he asked.

Aziraphale didn’t know the answer himself so he remained quiet. Shifting off of the bed he gathered up his clothing and put it back on. Once he was ready, he kissed the top of Casanova’s head, “Be you careful and stop getting caught.” The admonishment was laughed off as Aziraphale left, quietly closing the door behind him. The next day, as his carriage made it's way out of the city, Aziraphale daydreamed of freckles upon pale skin and a mischievous grin.


	2. Davina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, I hope I was able to respectfully portray this character so please be kind

It had been some time since meeting Casanova that Aziraphale had acted on any temptations that he was not actively performing for the Arrangement. There had been a couple of times when Crowley had been asleep that he had come very close. After he had spent some time with Oscar, Aziraphale had been a bit heartbroken over his death. The blessing after that had been particularly vexing as it had involved a rather obsessed young astronomer. In the end, Arthur's faith had been renewed and for some reason, that was important to Heaven. Aziraphale had gamely squashed all of his feelings away since the young man had looked uncomfortably like Crowley and was dealing with his own heartbreak.

Then there had been the time where he was most certainly not doing any blessings and needed a breather. He was having a drink in a slightly more discreet bar in New York before starting his next assignment, the war had picked up and before he went back to London, he needed to pass some information to the American OSS. Aziraphale was trying to read his book in peace, but the bar was particularly noisy that evening. There was a young man, who surprisingly looked as Aziraphale might if his corporation was much younger, slowly getting sloppy drunk a few chairs over. A few of the older gentlemen were predatorily fetching him more liquor. Just as Aziraphale was about to intervene, another young man who also looked disturbingly like Crowley with an interesting birthmark, walked over and shooed all of them away. "Miles, really, I didn't mean it like _that_," the angel heard him mutter. He gently helped Aziraphale's lookalike stand and then ushered him toward the door. Aziraphale idly wondered if he was being given a sign when he noticed the Crowley lookalike's hand resting gently on the small of Miles' back.

Of late, he had spent the better part of the last five years back in the United States trying to undo their horrible president's inaction. Quite frankly, he was tired of the Americas and should have been happy to be back in Britain. However, he had then spent the last half of the year trying to spread goodwill in the face of massive job losses around Glasgow. It was likely due to a bit of homesickness, that Aziraphale conceded it was no surprise that he gave in to his desires after years of performing rather arduous blessings. So, when he stopped into a neighbourhood pub later that evening, he was completely blindsided. The young woman tending the bar was breathtaking. Aziraphale was struck by how much she looked like Crowley when they were in Golgotha.

"Is there a particular reason you are staring?" the young woman asked with a bit of snark. The man polishing glasses at the end of the bar stopped to give him the stink eye.

Aziraphale internally reprimanded himself for his rudeness, "My apologies dear, I wasn't trying to be impolite, it's just that you are very beautiful and I was moved to distraction."

"What a charmer," she smiled and Aziraphale almost stopped breathing. It was the exact same smile Crowley had when greeting him those couple thousand years ago.

She poured him a pint then moved to serve a few other customers. Aziraphale watched her unobtrusively for a few minutes. She had a sharp smile like Crowley; it was something he only noticed when she adopted her feminine form. Crowley was always a little bit fiercer and intense when she was female. It made Aziraphale want to indulge Crowley, show her the kindness he knew she had not been given by others.

His internal musings were interrupted as the owner sidled up to him with a sour look on his face. “Don’t you be givin’ Davina any trouble now.”

Aziraphale stopped him before he got too far into his mistaken attempt at chivalry, “I am not here for trouble and I mean her no harm.”

“Well she’s special and there are too many blokes around here that…” The man trailed off, apparently at a loss on how to be discreet and at the same time deliver a credible threat.

By this point Aziraphale had noticed at least one look towards Davina that was not the standard lecherous male gaze, it was a little more pointed and a lot more disgusted. Suddenly, the patron somehow managed to spill his drink on himself and left before anyone could say a word. Frustrated with the misplaced gallantry, Aziraphale replied, “I am quite aware of your meaning, but I think it is entirely the lady’s choice in the matter.”

Davina had finished serving the other customers by this point and was shamelessly eavesdropping. “I think that is enough of that.” She smiled predatorily at Aziraphale. “I’m sure the gentlemen means well.”

The owner looked between the two and concluded that it was not his barmaid that might need protecting. He moved away to clean up the spill the other customer had left behind.

Davina leaned down and rested her elbows on the bar looking directly at him. Aziraphale’s eyes quickly flicked down the line of her neck to where it dipped into the collar of her blouse. He brought his attention back to the coy smile she was currently giving him. “Now be a dear and invite me out.”

Aziraphale’s pulse was racing at the uncanny similarities between the woman before him and his current heartache. Crowley was assertive like this in her female corporation; Aziraphale was always thrilled at her forceful personality and confidence. Aziraphale smiled fondly, “Madam, it would please me to no end if you would accompany me to dinner, say tomorrow at seven?” 

"I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

Aziraphale met her the next day in front of the bar. They took a cab to a small local restaurant and made banal small talk during dinner. Davina told him that the bar owner was a friend of a friend and that he had been looking for someone to tend the bar. Aziraphale told her he was a bookseller and he was in the area scouting for rare books. It wasn’t untrue; Aziraphale was always looking for rare books wherever he went for his assignments. After dessert, Davina smiled at him calculatingly. She placed her hand over his on the table, and it reminded the angel of the hundreds of times he wished Crowley could have done the same. “What did you have in mind for the rest of the evening?” she asked.

“My hotel is just around the corner if you would like to continue our conversation in private,” he offered.

“Of course it is.” Her grin told him that neither of them was fooling each other. The thin veneer of their date was rapidly melting away. They walked the short distance to his hotel. Once they entered his room, it was Davina who pounced on him. She positively sucked the breath out of his body with a kiss then moved on to divesting him of his sweater vest and shirt.

"I'm not that interested in my own pleasure," he said in between kisses. It was sort of a lie. His satisfaction would come when he was sure that she had taken her own.

"I am not surprised," Davina pushed him down on the bed and started unbuttoning his trousers. Aziraphale was amused as he looked up at her. Davina was already tall, but the heels she had on made her tower over him. Aziraphale sat up, he needed to slow this down, to savour her, even if he was lying to himself about why.

He let his gaze roam over her as she divested him of his shirt. Aziraphale was simply overwhelmed by her beauty, her pale skin and deep red hair almost shimmered in the dim lamplight, he gently unbuttoned her blouse, kissing the porcelain skin as it was revealed. "What are you in the mood for darling?" He continued down, slowly unzipping her skirt and pushing it down as he nuzzled the flat plane of her stomach.

Davina's breath hitched. Her hands came down to rest on his shoulders. "This is nice, just don't go any further, I don't like being stimulated down there by someone else."

Aziraphale kissed her firmly on the stomach. "Okay," he smiled up at her, and she smiled back when he paused. His hands moved from her front to rest lightly on her bum. "What about back here?"

Her soft smile transformed into a wicked grin, "Oh, that's perfectly fine, in fact, I'm looking forward to that."

The light from the lamp behind her cast a golden flow around her fiery red hair like a halo. Aziraphale allowed himself one more thought about how Crowley would look, pale and shining like the angel he had been before he banished the thought. It was terribly selfish of him to think of someone else while there was this gorgeous woman in front of him. He let her remove her knickers and stockings while he stood and made a show of fishing around in his travel bag for a condom and lube that miraculously appeared inside.

Davina was sitting in the middle of the bed when he turned back around. Aziraphale laid the items on the bedside table then motioned to the rest of his clothes. Davina nodded and he removed his trousers and undergarments then crawled up to join her. She ran her fingers through his hair pulling his mouth to hers. Aziraphale responded in kind, tangling his fingers in her long tresses. They spent several minutes kissing before Aziraphale slid his hands from her hair down her neck. Breaking the kiss, he let his eyes dip down to her breasts before bringing them back.

"Please," she responded to his unspoken question. He lowered his head and sucked gently, he let her hands guide him as he lavished attention on her breasts. His hands traced up and down her thighs as he manoeuvred them to lie on the bed. Davina drew his head up and kissed him soundly on the mouth before rolling onto her stomach. Aziraphale crawled on top of her. He ran his hands through her hair again, then slid down to knead her shoulders lightly before skimming over her spine down to the small of her back.

Aziraphale massaged her buttocks, tracing up and down the back of her thighs to delight in the supple skin under his hands. He opened the bottle of lube and poured a generous amount on his fingers, he took care not to touch her bollocks as he gently rubbed up from her taint to her hole. Aziraphale stroked increasingly firm circles with his thumb over her before slowly pushing his index finger in. He let it rest there while he massaged her lower back soothingly until she squirmed against him. Aziraphale thrust slowly, adding another when she pushed back. “You look positively ravishing like this, darling.” She hummed in response and arched her back, a blatant indication for him to keep going.

Davina gasped when he slid in a third finger, Aziraphale paused, and before he could ascertain if she was okay she tossed heir hair to the side and looked back at him, "More," she growled, rearing back. He stroked steadily, massaging her inside while low moans dropped from her throat and Aziraphale drank in her desire. They continued like this until she leaned back and stilled his hand. Pulling away, she sat up and rearranged them to where Aziraphale was reclining against the headboard of the bed. As she kneeled over him he reached over and handed her the condom.

"I like a man who's prepared," she grinned as she rolled it on. She grabbed the bottle of lube and poured some into her hand. He let out his first moan for the night as she grasped his cock, slicking it up as she held it steady. Aziraphale grasped her hips as she positioned herself then sank down upon him. They both let out a sigh of relief as she rocked in his lap, as far along as they were, Aziraphale wasn't sure how much longer either of them would last.

"Would you like me to do anything?" he asked as he rested his hands on top of her thighs.

"Just lie there and enjoy yourself, dearie. I certainly am." Aziraphale wasn't about to be that inattentive, he moved his hands up her chest to play with her nipples. She lost her rhythm for a moment then laughed, "Oh, that's nice too," before resuming at an even harsher pace. Davina's movements quickened and he let her take her own pleasure. He plunged his hands into her soft curls and kissed her ardently while she bucked and moaned into his mouth through her orgasm. So caught up in her gratification, Aziraphale barely felt the moment he released his spend inside of her.

They sat there for a moment, breathing heavily before she lifted herself off of him. Aziraphale rolled slightly away to strip off the condom and toss it in the trash. He turned back toward her and they haphazardly draped their arms about each other. He closed his eyes for a moment as they exchanged soft touches and caught their breath. Once they had calmed down and he felt her move away slightly, he opened his eyes to a cascade of red hair and deep brown eyes. For a very brief moment, he was disappointed that they were not yellow.

Davina gazed at him knowingly, "I remind you of someone, don't I?"

Aziraphale blushed, embarrassed to be caught out. "My apologies dear, I don't want to cheapen our liaison that way."

It was her turn to smile benevolently, "It's okay. I think we both got what we wanted. It is rather flattering to know that you were so tempted by me looking like someone else. Do they know?"

"I don't know." And to be honest, Aziraphale did not know. After six millennia they were still horrible about communicating what exactly their situation had become. Sometimes he thought Crowley knew, other times it was if nothing mattered but the Arrangement. They were stuck in this perpetual cycle that Aziraphale was afraid of breaking lest it spell doom for his partner.

He must have been silent too long because she placed a hand on his face and kissed the corner of his mouth, "You should go home to London soon." Davina slid out of the bed and gathered up her clothes to get dressed. When she was clothed, she turned and looked at him for a moment. Aziraphale saw the moment she made a decision, "I really must be going."

He hesitated for a moment wondering if he should invite her to stay the rest of the night. His courage failed him at the last moment and instead he replied, "Would you like me to call you a cab darling?" He sat up and put on his pants and trousers.

"Such a gentleman. No, I will get one on the street." Aziraphale smiled. A little miracle ensured that there would be one waiting at the valet just as she left the hotel. He escorted her to the door of the suite and they shared one more lingering kiss before she walked out.

Aziraphale had just finished dressing after taking a shower when he felt the telltale presence of an assignment materializing. A letter embossed with heaven's seal appeared from thin air and dropped gently on the desk in the room. Sighing heavily, he snapped open the wax seal and read. It seemed he would be in Glasgow a little longer. Heaven had deemed that he was to go to St. Jude's mental hospital and transcribe some patient journals that happened to be prophetic writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I snuck a bit of Arthur Eddington and Miles Maitland/Ginger Littlejohn in there at the beginning. I figured that if I wasn't going to write them as a chapter, they could at least get a cameo.


End file.
